“WHERE exactly are you?” came the exasperated voice on my phone, “And if you are where I think you might be, just stop there and don’t move another inch.”

Mmmmm. I thought I might be both in trouble and in the wrong place on the beat. Today was the last shoot of the season. Beaters day, when all the shoot members, plus wives that can be co-opted to beat, beat for the shoot beaters.

I had been directed, by my husband I may add, to walk through a wood, go to a field, cross this field to a far fence, then stand there and stop any birds running out.

In my defence, no specifics were added and apparently I went to the wrong wood, although to my mind one wood looks very like another wood. And my usual beating companion Tine, had heartlessly abandoned me for a Caribbean cruise.

As the sounds of any other beaters faded and even no crack of gunshot reached me, I realised I had messed up. Best to stop and either wait for the others to catch up or perhaps retrace my steps. It was then that Dave, our beloved shoot captain, rang me. I must say he was very restrained.

Back in the shoot wagon, however, after rejoining the rest of the team, my shoot compatriots were merciless and unsparing in teasing me.

I love the ethos and camaraderie of the shoot. Everyone works together, and, and I hope he really appreciates this, I took the flak on this occasion that is usually reserved for Dave’s eldest son Richard.

One of the real highlights of the shoot is to watch Dave going apoplectic not only because his dog Duke is not doing what he is told, but also because, in Dave’s eyes, neither is Richard. Who, of course, is sublimely unimpressed by the wild gestations and even wilder imprecations headed his way when he crosses the line.

Even when as his father expostulates on one beat, that line has been clearly marked by a sign saying stop, and which he now threatens he is going to demarcate with another sign; the second one saying Definitely Stop Here.

Now I suspect there may be other signs. Strictly for me. “No entry” “ Stay put” and finally “Do not leave the shoot wagon unless under strict supervision of Tine.” No cruises for her next year then.